" Rye corrected himself. “I can absolutely imagine you choosing the desires of an imaginary future partner over your own.”

It stung, the accuracy of that statement, delivered so gently, and with Rye’s hand on his cheek. As if Rye saw the truth of his home’s yearning—its nearly silent, beige-and-white cry into the darkness: Love me. I won’t assert myself. I am made of space for you. I have emptied myself of any identifiable desires so that yours may flourish. "

― Roan Parrish , Best Laid Plans (Garnet Run, #2)